“…but basically there are only two: reason and practice.”
I consider myself spirit blind.
For the totally and completely unaware here, I figure I should start explaining myself when I use the term “spirit blind.” It’s pretty much almost exactly as it sounds: I’m unable to feel/commune with spirits. I know that they are there. I know that it would take a fucking retard to not believe that there are spirits walking around in the cemeteries that I’ve been grave-tending in. And I talk to them as though they are there, “Hello, how are you today?” and all of that. However, I cannot sense them in the slightest. I can only assume that there is someone out there who responds. And I believe that there is something there (way better than thinking that I’m talking to myself, eh?) and that something does respond to me. I just can’t hear it.
So, I consider myself spirit blind. I think this is mostly due to the fact that as a child, I wasn’t.
As a child, I was all up and in that spirit’s business or what have you. I believed and because of that, I saw a lot more than you would assume would be possible. After the death of my father, I pretty much closed myself off from the Deadz (I refer to them thusly, on purpose). It wasn’t a matter of my not wanting to believe or see any longer, but it hurt too much to communicate regularly with my father. I was very, very young when he died and I didn’t understand any of it. (As an adult, sometimes, I still don’t understand.) He was there, though, in a thousand different ways. So, even though I couldn’t see or feel him so strongly, I just… knew that he was there. Hell, our whole family knew that. But, I couldn’t see him or feel him, and that loss? That hurt.
I pretty much just accepted that that was to be my lot in life. I would have a guardian protector, but be unable to communicate adequately with him. I would have spirits following me around and I would have others remark upon it, but all I could do was give an uncertain smile and a little nod in recognition. I would never be allowed more than a little inkling or obvious reminders. It took me a long time, but I finally figured that I could accept it. I figured that that would be it and I could handle it.
Except now, the Deadz call me…
…and this spirit blindness? It makes it that much harder.
I think what makes this all worse is that it really isn’t surprising. None of this is even remotely surprising. I can think back to a hundred different instances where the Deadz would begin to call me when I was a child, teen, adult and I would never understand what the hell was going on. The basic affinity for fucking cemeteries is a big fucking indicator. I’ve always loved cemeteries, even as a child. And while that sounds incredibly morbid and sick, it’s just the fucking truth. I always just chalked it off to, well, being morbid. After listening to your father cark it in the other room at the age of seven, well, you start to see things a little more darkly than other kids your age.
Maybe the death of my father was a catalyst for something that was going to happen anyway…
A rather clearly big indicator would have to be a conversation I had last night, with an atheist. We were all just chattering away about nonsensical things and it came up at some point or another. And I was like, “Wait. What? An atheist is the what now?” I’ve always viewed atheists with amused detachment, mostly because I used to profess to be one. (Never was, but you can claim things all the same.) But, when we were talking and I asked him what he thought would happen after death, I had this gut-wrenching sorrow and anger when he gave me his response. Of course, things like this happen and then, it’s some time later that it all falls into place…
In reality, I have to say that I’m not scared insomuch by this. It’s something that has been a slow and steady process. With each new experience, another brand new one will arise on the horizon. I merely have to be patient and wait for it. Back in November, when I really started to pay attention to the Deadz and then finally, in December when I began my grave-tending duties, I knew that this was something that was important and a path that I would walk. I didn’t realize that it would lead to more… that the Deadz would call to me. (Damn that hindsight: always twenty-twenty.)
I think being spirit blind is a major fucking hindrance to all of this, though. I mean, I won’t know that I’m being compelled to do something until well and truly after the fact.
Today is a primary case in point. I was compelled to do something by spirits not my own, not ones I’ve met, and ones that I will probably meet in future but not yet. And yet, they compelled me to do something. I felt out-of-body but here, all at the same time. I feel dizzy and my head ached, but I also felt like I was just simply exhilarated at being fucking alive and being able to fucking breathe. It’s only well and truly after the fact (hours, now) that I realize how frightening it is to have someone else come in and tell you what to do and you do it without even knowing what the fuck they’re saying or doing. It’s beyond fucking frightening; it’s terrifying.
But, this is my lot in life.
I walk with the Deadz.